The First Clues

The students had all arrived in the classroom early. The professor was not there yet, and the room buzzed with chatter.

Outside the windows, autumn leaves were falling. Dark shadows drifting past now and then made the season seem all the more desolate.

"Hey, Scarhead, Quidditch is coming up. Aren't you scared?" Draco Malfoy looked as punchable as ever.

"Oh, give it a rest, Malfoy. We were the ones who won last time!"

Ron Weasley jumped in before Harry could speak, eager to fire back.

Draco Malfoy looked Ron Weasley up and down. "Is that so? Shame you can only watch me shine from the stands."

Ron Weasley scowled. He was being mocked for not being on the Quidditch team! "What are you so smug about? You're not going to win anyway!"

Harry was brimming with confidence. "Just you wait, Slick. I'll see you on the pitch."

Whenever Quidditch came up, those two immediately went head-to-head.

Bang!

Someone shoved the classroom door open so roughly that it struck the wall with a pained groan.

The classroom instantly fell silent. The young wizards all felt that this entrance seemed rather familiar.

Wearing a black robe he never seemed to change, Snape strode in, his face stern and his gaze fixed straight ahead.

He waved his wand as he walked, and the classroom windows slammed shut.

The room immediately darkened.

None of the young wizards knew what was going on. Why had Snape suddenly turned up? It felt as though they were in Potions.

Neville's smile froze on his face. At the sight of Snape bearing down on them, he went a little pale.

Snape strode along with such vigor that he seemed like a different man, his make-way-for-no-one swagger even more imposing than usual.

Presumably, he was feeling rather pleased now